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Ender’s Game: an amateur review

Saw Ender’s Game tonight because there are too many movies I’ve been wanting to see lately and while Gravity would have been my first choice, I knew Chris was likely enjoy the more action-oriented classic sci-fi flick. I’d heard mixed reviews from others who’ve read the book, but that it certainly wasn’t overtly bad. Then I was torn about the whole boycott: Orson Scott Card is a fucking douchebag and I don’t want to give him any money, but the combination of Lionsgate saying they wholeheartedly do not support his anti-LGBT views and plan to donate some proceeds to LGBT-oriented charity, that Ender’s Game in and of itself doesn’t perpetuate those hateful views in any way, and that unfortunately some people out there make it so to enjoy their art or craft you have to ignore them as a person had me deciding I could live with myself if I saw it. How many batshit or jackass actors or musicians do we know that are extremely talented at what they do, but horribly people? Yeah I try not to support them either if I can help it, but… I don’t know. You can like things while admitted that they are problematic, or the people behind them are problematic. Then again I don’t know. It’s generally accepted to love Michael Jackson’s music even though he was a supposed nutjob with questionable morals when it came to children. Mel Gibson’s widely known for the derogatory shit that he spews and you’re not looked down on for loving Braveheart, etc. Then again, everyone gags a little if you admit you bought a CD of Chris Brown’s. So who knows. I was TORN.

But Ender’s Game is one of my favorite classic science fiction novels that I read when young and it blew my small mind even though I didn’t understand any of the political aspects of the plot in 7th grade and always just wanted the story to get back to Ender and his games. I remember it was the first of the “classic scifi” that my parents handed me when I’d proven that I officially enjoyed the genre and reading and wanted MORE (but there were an overwhelming number of Star Wars books so mom, dad, help!) I read that, then Doorways in the Sand, which I hardly remember understanding at ALL, and then attempted the Chronicles of Amber and Dune, but didn’t quite make it through either before I went back to my Animorphs.

That disclaimer out of the way, my brief thoughts under the cut, because I’m pretty tired tonight and just want to crawl into bed with some Netflix – spoilers for anyone who’s not read the book, if you have I guess still spoilers for how main plot is handled, but not details? For anyone who hasn’t read the book, I’d say READ IT FIRST if you can manage. I’d say knowing what I did made me enjoy the movie more, even if it means I’m a bit pickier about it too. The emotions just pack such a bigger punch in the novel.

I made this blog to ramble about videogames WHY AM I TALKING ABOUT BOOKS SO MUCH LATELY? Continue reading

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Belated Halloween!

BAD MEG. Didn’t write yesterday. But I think I will do two entries tonight to make up for it. They might both be very photo-heavy. Don’t curr.

I went to a sci-fi themed Halloween party at small microbrewery over in Fremont last Thursday, and while driving back meant it couldn’t be WILD, I still had a great time just being with people on Halloween again. It’s always been tied for my favorite holiday with Christmas – I mean, it’s hard to beat presents and vacation days, but every holiday was sort of ruined last year. Halloween’s never been super family-oriented so it wasn’t ruined in THAT way, but the fact that I could not muster up an ounce of enthusiasm for it because it was so soon after the fire made me super sad. I’ve always loved Halloween, back when it was dressing up as various types of animals to compliment the Power Rangers of the boys next door, back during the 91 Halloween blizzard, where everyone in Minnesota STILL went trick-or-treating, even though we had what, 3 feet of snow or something that night? All costumes needed to be able to fit over snowpants back then. I was a purple rabbit, a black cat, then I was a Kangaroo for like 3 years in a row because having a pouch to carry candy was both awesome and immensely entertaining to anyone giving me candy. I was a fox for a couple years, and then junior high was a thing, so it wasn’t cool to be animals anymore.

The first Halloween party I went to I was a pirate – I remember always thinking that looked like a way-fun costume, but I quickly found out an eye-patch and large round glasses do not go together well. Still it was a holiday-themed party and everyone dressed up and OH MAN THIS WAS SUPER FUN. So I put on my own party the next year with my 8th grade best friend, and my mom being the amazingly good sport she was put together a pretty nice Padme/Queen Amidala battle outfit for me out of this shiny purply-maroon fabric and some gold ribbon. I remember I was also so happy that my boycut hair had finally grown out enough for me to put my hair into a bun like she had. That was back when my Star Wars obsession had been reinvigorated by Episode 1 and my love of costume design exploded (though I never did anything but draw them cause ew sewing). I think there was another year I went as a hippie to something, but then finally it was high school and you didn’t really DO Halloween anymore, which I was always SO secretly sad about. Then college hit and people started dressing up again for fun even if we weren’t really trick-or-treating, and then parties with alcohol happened, and I gladly put together a hippie outfit for a couple years. I remember one year my roommate and I did a last second 15-minutes before a party trip to the local WalMart to grab whatever we could left on the shelves and throw something together. I ended up grabbing a wig and some black makeup to be a goth (because while pasty enough bahahahaha talk about not me) and she grabbed some shiny butterfly wings and I did some fairly swirls on her face to match.

I don’t know what it is, I just LOVE IT. Then after leaving Stetson, I went to the parties of my long-time WoW friends down in Florida every year for three years. And it was great, because everyone was actually as into their costumes as I was, even if we just ended up playing games and drinking at a rented beach house, we all looked fantastic while doing it. I was a Steampunk something the first year, then I was Mother Nature, and then the last year I took the Mac make-up template of a Roy Lichtenstein-esque pop art woman, with a bright yellow wig and red dots all over my face. DRESSING UP, YOU GUYS. So much fun, you put something together and then it actually looks awesome and then it’s a bit like you’re a kid again, not necessarily playing pretend in the back yard, but for one night you just get to look like someone/something else and that makes me happy every time. I get a sense of pride in doing something a bit creative, or having the satisfaction of an idea that actually works.

So, THIS YEAR, I wasn’t expecting to do anything though I had a few ideas mulling around in my head, so when I was invited to the party, I picked the sci-fi fitting one and went with it. I wanted to go off my current Star Trek kick that I’ve been on since winter last year (and ESPECIALLY since I finally sat down and watched the entirety of TOS this summer), but no way was I going to put together or splurge on a normal uniform. Then I remembered that I had a black fall vest, and all I needed was a white sweater underneath and I had the makings for TOS Scotty’s film outfit. So the day of the party, I ran to the local craft store after doing some research online, bought some fabric and fastenings, busted out my metallic acrylics from their still-in-moving-boxes state and got to work. The hardest part was figuring out how to stick the pieces of fabric to the vest temporarily so that the vest was still wearable afterward. The solution I found, after seeing toupee tape suggested online, was this body tape, or fashion tape, that people use to keep all their bits in place and covered if they’re wearing a precarious outfit. It worked fantastically, with no residue afterward! I also used this cosplay post to help me see the details, because references of the actual outfit weren’t great, so a big thanks to that person. I obviously did the poor woman’s alternative in a lot of areas, but after spraying my hair with white and dousing it in baby powder, I don’t think it turned out half bad for a day’s worth of work. Also one of the most comfortable costumes I’ve ever warn because it kept me warm on the deck of the pub, and DIDN’T INVOLVE A DRESS. Fem-Scotty to the rescue!

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Gaming 2013 Catch-Up: Tomb Raider

All right, I’m obviously still shaking off some of the gloom that October had me in. It’s hard, but I’m definitely feeling better now than I did at the end of September, dreading the anniversary’s arrival and at the beginning of October feeling like it had happened all over again. I went quiet for the summer, however, that was due to me working 24/7 at my usual amazing summer camp and it being the usual combination of stress and elation. I did play games, though! May was rougher than the rest because my coworkers weren’t there yet and being alone in a place that my brother had previously worked with me every summer had a lot of baggage that came with it: sometimes good, sometimes bad, and either way exhausting.

Right before I headed to camp though, I had finished up my playthrough of the new Tomb Raider which I both wanted to try because I’d heard a lot of good things (despite the controversy) and because it’s a franchise that’s near and dear to my heart even if I was always too chicken to ever really play most of Lara Croft’s games. My parents had a sort of tradition of getting Ross and I a computer game on our birthday, and then another on Christmas (but god forbid we have a gaming console oh ho ho ho) – Tomb Raider I particularly remember because it was one of my first… “darker” games, I guess you could call it? We played educational games like Treasure Mountain, and we played Star Wars games or Wing Commander or Indy racing, but when I held this weirdly shaped box in my hand it was a game that could be scary.

And it was, to me. I saw that you could run into a T-Rex on the back of the box and then proceeded to never get past the first level on my own because I was determined that I would run into that damn dinosaur and I was terrified. But I played the hell out of the training rooms, and I remember Ross and I watching each other play, and cracking up at how we could make Lara swan dive from incredible height only to make her then break her neck because we accidentally (or maybe purposely) missed the pool. And we played that first level over and over once we knew what to do because the worst there was there were wolves and bats. I could handle that. And on level two when we first swan dived off that super tall waterfall and were so close to missing the water at the bottom that Lara screamed I thought we were going to lose it we were laughing so hard. We tried to recreate that over and over for my neighbor who would come over and play but we never quite could. But we BOTH heard it so we KNEW we weren’t imagining things.

Since my birthday is in the summer and this was back when my mom was obsessed with having healthy and productive summers off, we were taking bike rides with the neighbor boys (essentially adopted brothers by then as we were to their family) every morning on the path along the golf course near our house. We’d ride to the end and back while our moms walked and talked. The best part was when we got back to the house well before our moms were done, so we had the free time to have some lemonade and then game. This became a standard. Danny who was two years younger than I was, was way braver than I, and I’m not sure Ross genuinely had the coordination yet (or maybe he was scared too and just didn’t say so), so we’d all crowd around and watch him play the levels I was too chicken to continue. He did eventually get through the whole game, and I felt like I had legitimately participated and helped, but that game was important to me for one BIG reason, and that was that by default, you were a female character. Yes she had huge boobs and was the source of boners ’round the globe for fanboys, but I didn’t care, it was the first game I think I ever played where if you were allowed to be female, you actually SAW the main character. Any others were first person space sims or extremely androgynous kids with caps on so you couldn’t see their faces. No one blatantly and visibly female. Rebel Assault let me actually choose female and then they said she sometimes instead of he, but that was as close as I’d gotten by then. I remember my parents saying that’s why they’d gotten it for me too. I was ecstatic. Not so much so that I wasted money on the rest of the games when I found out I wasn’t going to get the guts up to play beyond level one, but I have a special place in my heart for Lara anyway.

The reboot? Is fantastic. And not even too scary for me to play! (Skyrim’s dungeons give me the shivers, so this is still a valid concern.) The controls are super smooth, and I’d say the one downside is it’s a very short, very linear game to pay the initial full price for, but I loved the story, I loved that they showed how Lara became badass without… completely putting her through a bunch of tropey experiences (there’s some, but I didn’t think it detracted from her character) and I know some were worried that since it’s an “origin” story of sorts they strip her of all her awesomeness to build upon – I didn’t think so. Physically and even mentally she’s still pretty hardcore from the start. I don’t mind seeing her having to learn how to kill a guy and that not being an easy thing to do the first time.

Anyway, old news for anyone current with games, but I did really love it, and it was fun playing a game that also made remember creeping around in pixelated tombs, thinking that T-Rex would be around every corner. Even if you never encountered it until like 10 levels into the damn game. To go with my playing catch-up on my gaming exploits, I’ve updated my Gaming To-Do page. I’m currently working on my bastard playthroughs of both Dragon Age: Origins, and DAII (while forever poking around in WoW, SWTOR, and GW2). It works out nicely that playing the game like a raging psychopath is both honoring how Ross always played things first and very nicely filling out all my incomplete achievements. When growing up one reason I never bothered to force myself to be an asshole to see the other side to the stories was because Ross would do it for me, and I just saw the story vicariously through him. Sort of like how I “played” Tomb Raider through Danny. I miss that.

Homesickness…

So the power did eventually come back on in the wee hours of the morning. I’m not sure what time exactly because between daylight savings and me frantically pouring through the final chapters of Divergent, I had lost all sense of time and passed out as soon as it was done. The fact that I actually managed to finish an entire novel in a day without internet or power is probably pretty telling? But I’m going to chalk it up to it being a) really good, b) a young adult novel and therefore a pretty easy (BUT STILL GREAT) read, and c) it had been a long time since I’ve sat and been absorbed in a book. People compare it to Hunger Games, cause it’s definitely another dystopian future where a teenage girl protagonist is the key to you know, disturbing the disturbing dystopian “peace”, but outside of that it was different enough that I still really enjoyed it. And I liked Tris better than Katniss although they’re both more stone-cold than your average teenage girl main character. That had me questioning Katniss’s character (not as a good character but moreso as someone relatable), but it didn’t so much with Tris. Both characters acknowledge and question their unfeeling choices and I appreciate that, and certainly don’t need my protags to be touchy-feely. I am though, so it does affect the way I personally relate and see them in the story, as those traits will with any character from any book for me. Either way, I find it interesting if/when people pick apart insensitive (female) protagonists, as they’re so used to being able to relate to the person that when one is kind of a jerk, or cold, or ferocious, or unfeeling, there’s this instinct to recoil from the story as a whole. I know some people who have that problem with the main character in Orange is the New Black. I think it makes going through the journey with them less comfortable, but when you’re talking about dystopia, (or a prison, in OitNB) that’s kind of the idea? So I try to embrace it. And with Divergent, it was easy, I think overall Tris struck a bit better balance for me than Katniss ever did. Though we’ll have to see about the next couple books.

Uh, okay, there are many people who actually study this stuff that can word it all way better than I can, so I’ll leave it at that.

In other news, I Skype my parents tomorrow. Like I begun to say in my first entry of the month, it’s so bizarre being homesick. Not for the place, but for my parents. I’m not used to it. I never understood the people who went home every weekend for months my Freshman year of college. My mom said they used to call those people the “suitcases” back when she was at school out east, and that she, like I did, ended up forming my friendships with the people that stuck around instead, many out-of-staters, but some just people who didn’t feel it necessary to drive home even if it was only a couple hours away rather than a flight cross-country like mine was.

I remember, my first time away from home without my immediate family was a trip to Florida, to my grandparents, but I went with my cousins’ family instead of my own. I was having a great time, Granny and Grandpa had a pool and Florida was still an amazing utopia of beaches, sun, palm trees, and dolphins to me at the time, but I remember one night I had decided that I was Sad. I must have been crying or something, because my aunt sat down next to me and held my hand and was appropriately sympathetic-looking. She asked me if I was homesick. “Do you miss your mom?” Sniffle. Yeaaah. “Do you miss your dad?” Yeeeah. Big frown. “Do you miss your dog?” Yeeah. Because my aunt understood how dogs were equal parts of the family. And finally: “Do you miss your brother?” And that got me to laugh through my tears and I said “No!” Because brothers were annoying, especially little ones, and we were never ever supposed to admit that we loved them because gross, brothers, and he was supposed to do the same because gross, big sisters.

And then I was okay. And I have never remembered being homesick once in my life after that. Not at school patrol camp where we did actual camping things and were outdoorsy and I apparently had a blast even though when my mom came to pick me up I had a raging case of pink eye. I wasn’t when I went to any of my out-of-state music and band camps like the proud nerd that I was. I wasn’t when I went to Mexico with my grandmother and spent my days watching whales and snorkeling and feeling like I was in heaven. I spent a great deal of time at friend’s houses with no problem, and then when I moved to college, calling my parents was usually due to some sort of upset, or I avoided it because I knew that mom would just give me a list of things to do that I had either likely forgotten to do or knew I hadn’t touched yet so I didn’t want to be scolded about.

Now I can’t wait to Skype them tomorrow, just to tell them how Halloween was this week. I lived at home with them for two years after college and thought my dad or I was going to snap and strangle the other, but being at home for the majority of the time since Ross died has been okay. My friends have been amazing at staying in touch via WoW and Skype and IM, but when my parents told our grief counselor that it would be odd getting used to me being gone when I went to work 2 hours away all summer, I was a little baffled, because it wasn’t like we spent all our time together. They were at work for most of the day, I was up late chatting with my friends with a headset on for the evenings. But it was nice. I’m not saying I would want to live with them again, and that road trip still pushed us to want to strangle each other on occasion, but that’s family for me. It’s nice being so much closer to them. Sometimes I feel like I abandoned them, moving so far away only a year after we lost Ross, but they have never once made me feel like I should feel bad for not being someone who gets homesick. They couldn’t wait for Ross or I to go abroad, like they did. They supported my Seattle plans from day 1, even if they also expressed their concerns. Half my dad’s tribute to Ross at the service was about how he was so glad that Ross got to see different countries and experience things that were new and exciting, and I remember that whenever I worry that I should feel worse for leaving them. I know part of my mom’s excitement about it is a show for my sake. She doesn’t realise that I’ve been able to recognise her ‘let’s be excited for the kids (or the customers)’ voice for years now, but I appreciate it, nonetheless. The dedication in Divergent was to Veronica Roth’s mother, saying “To my mother, who gave me the moment when Beatrice realizes how strong her mother is and wonders how she missed it for so long.” I feel like I’ve had a hundred of those revelations since October last year and it really hits you sometimes. Maybe that’s what I miss most lately. Or maybe there’s the part of me that just hated seeing my dad wonder if Ross knew how much he loved him and hoping that he’ll never have to wonder that again.

My Kingdom for a working outlet…

It figures that as soon as I commit to something online, the next day we have an all-day power outage. Apparently it had been going in and out all morning and completely went out around 11am. Faaaabulous. So, instead of wasting my Saturday being online and or working on my Dragon Age II Bastard play-through, I picked up my copy of Divergent and hunkered down on the couch. I’ve been meaning to read it since the road trip out here, but since my days without internet were cut shorter than I had anticipated (for which I thanked many dieties I don’t actually believe in) I didn’t end up touching it until now. It was a bit bizarre sitting and reading as the already cloudy day got darker, and by the time I busted out a flashlight to read by, I didn’t know what time it was. We don’t have any battery-operated clocks in the place yet, and my phone was dead, so all I knew is that I’d started reading around 3:00pm, and now it had been dark for probably(?) an hour.

It wasn’t until I ventured out into the strangely sky-lit dark orange of my condo parking lot and got into my car that I found it was 7:30. Excellent, four hours well spent on a good book – but now it was time to get to a place with food, power, and wireless so I could post this. But of course, it’s a Saturday night and I was not the only one thinking this way. After ordering food that was promptly forgotten about by the staff at Panera I found the outlet I was excited to claim had the ground prongs broken off in both sockets. No wonder that table had been so blissfully empty. But, at least since the staff forgot about my food, I decided to get it to go and save it for later – and they have me a free cupcake, then proceeded looking for another place. After a few calls around on my plugged in, barely 1% charged phonein the car, I found a restaurant that had a table AND an outlet and no wait at 8:15pm on a Saturday night. Score. I will gladly pay the 13 dollars for your overpriced burger and bottomless fries when you are the only place that would reserve such a thing for me.

So after a hardy meal, Chris has joined me here and in return for me charging his phone with my laptop he is waiting patiently for me to get my daily blog in. He spent the afternoon getting some hours in at work where there WAS power. Now I believe we will return home to level our Pathfinder characters by the light of a fire in our fireplace (that I have wrongfully scoffed at being from a place that gets well below zero). The power company’s only update at the moment is that King county has the most outages of anywhere, and that they were down to 55,000 customers affects (from 90,000 at the storm’s peak).  I wish them the best in getting it fixed, and now that my phone is charged, I don’t have to hog the lamp to continue reading. Divergent is good. If you liked the Hunger Games, read it.

NaBloPoMo + New digs

ImageSo, in an effort to resurrect this blog from where it’s fallen quiet due to a whole slew of things, I’ve joined NaBloPoMo which I’ve done once in the past and it was really fun. Plus I should have plenty to write about now, right? It’s strange looking at my last entry, wherein I’d just returned from visiting Seattle. Now I’m there, officially moved in for the better part of two months.

I came out at the end of August to attend PAX Prime 2013, as well as stay with a friend and begin my job/apartment hunt. It was pretty fun, although being three hours behind the East Coast took some getting used to. The weather’s been fantastic for as much as everyone immediately raises their eyebrows and goes “Oooh, Washington. Rainy.” as if they are giving me the inside scoop on a place I must know nothing about to want to live there. Well, that, or it’s just the only thing everyone knows about Washington and therefore is the default response. Smalltalk 101 stuff. But it’s been beautiful, and only just now as we head into November am I really seeing a rainy sort of trend. Even so, I don’t mind. My mom was worried the grey skies and drizzly weather would make it hard for me to shake off depression when it gets ahold of me. She’s been very pro-sunlight ever since I went on anti-depressants back in college, reminding me how much being indoors all the time can scientifically make you feel worse. I’m sure there’s truth to it, but the way my mom reminds me of it like she reminds me to make my bed or something kind of makes me laugh.

At the end of September, I hadn’t found a job (and still haven’t) but I did manage to grab a cozy 2-bedroom with my friend Chris over in Redmond. It’s on the “East Side” – that is, of Seattle, and of Lake Washington, and it’s much more suburbany than living in the city, but it’s 2 minutes from where Chris works and I like not HAVING to go into the city for everything. Traffic out here is ridiculous (and don’t even get me started on their street signage). So I flew home, spent 2 weeks saying  couple goodbyes and packing up the stuff from my old apartment to ship it out west. Then, Mom, Dad and I piled into the Prius that belonged to my grandfather, then my brother, and now me, to make the 3 day road trip.

That road trip could encompass a fair few entries all on its own, and I don’t feel like rehashing it at the moment, but despite a rocky start and a satisfying conclusion, I’ll say this: I’ve never actually cried when saying goodbye to my parents before. I’ve never been homesick. I’ve gone across the country to college for four years, not batted an eye missing the occasional holiday, not really cared if my parents and just happen not to chat for a month at a time. But there were some tears this time. I signed a lease. We know I’m out here for a year, if not (hopefully) longer, and that would have never THAT big a deal until we lost Ross.

I’d hoped to write more tonight, but Chris and I ended up FINALLY going grocery shopping to stock the fridge and cupboards after being in our place for a month and mostly just grabbing snacks and eating out, and then we watched the first couple episodes of Sleepy Hollow, but since I was out until midnight last night for Halloween, as per usual didn’t actually fall asleep until early this morning, and woke up at a decent hour thanks to a friend I hadn’t chatted with in awhile texting me (not being sarcastic, btw, seriously, so glad they texted) – I am exhausted. And being exhausted at 11pm for the first time since being on the road for 10 hours a day with my parents feels great. It was a year since we lost Ross on October 8th, and I did not want to go through this month again. But at least by the end I had a reason to smile about what was previously one of my favorite times of year

Now let’s hope I remember to write again tomorrow.

Silver linings feel pretty transparent…

So, Tuesday afternoon I returned from spending six days in Seattle, Washington. The place I’m looking to move to next fall. Being there and looking at the different areas with my friend Chris, who I’ll be getting a place with, really helped it sink in. We looked at a fair few apartment complexes, some way out of our price range, some more affordable. The leasing offices all suggested we call them in Mid-July to see what will be opening up, Chris and I discussed what we did and didn’t like about what we were seeing inside the apartments we were looking at, and I even applied for a job, cause it was one I was qualified for and the due date was Monday so why not.

It finally feels real. And for the most part that’s great. Really, really great. There are so many things I could blab on and on about that are so great and the idea of them makes me feel happy. But some apprehensions reared their heads while I was there too, that I don’t think I really knew how to put into words until I got home and went to counseling yesterday.

I’m scared to do something that I feel like will change my life for the better so much, something that may not have happened for an extremely long time if at all, if Ross hadn’t died. Right now, I’d give anything to have my brother back, I’d gladly stay miserable and in school for years if it meant that Ross hadn’t died and I therefore hadn’t had the epiphany that I was so unhappy there, or because we were all too raw and too scared of not being honest with one another that I confessed to my parents that I hadn’t paid fall’s tuition yet in the hopes that I’d find a way to withdraw before I did. And that I had withdrawn at the last minute the semester before and essentially spent all spring wasting their money.

I hadn’t ever planned to tell my parents yet. If Ross hadn’t died, I don’t know that I would have.

I guess I’m scared of moving to Seattle and being happier and moving on with my life because I don’t want to ever get to the point where I look back and say that I wouldn’t change anything. I’d be unhappy my whole life if it meant I had Ross back and he could live his. And maybe I was seriously considering withdrawing and working for a year in River Falls and then moving out to Seattle anyway. In fact, I logged back on to Care.com to update my profile and saw that the last I’d logged was October 8th. That is literally what I was doing when I got my mom’s text: looking for jobs that would let me take time off school. But then I think about stuff like meeting someone I want to marry, or getting a dream job – stuff that is supposed to be so good that you wouldn’t change your life at risk of not getting to that point, and I just don’t want it.

I think that’s why I have trouble when people still try to talk about the good that’s come from it. It’s nothing against the good that I’ve found amongst all of it – it’s still precious to me and I’m more grateful than I can ever say for the way my friends have supported me and I’ve felt closer to all of them than I have in a long time. I’ve made some new friends, I’ve gotten closer to my parents, I’ve started to turn my life in a direction I feel like I’m okay with…

But I just can’t quite look at it that way yet. I’m not offended when anyone suggests thinking of the good things, but… it feels hypocritical for me to turn around and tell others the same, so I don’t. Like the boy who lost his brother last week, or the people who lost loved ones on Monday. They deserve their time to be so bitter and so angry and so hurt…

Maybe I’ll get there eventually. And the bitterness has ebbed a lot, for the most part, for which I’m glad. Problem is I’m just as scared of actually reaching to that point of ‘acceptance’ as I am of forever feeling so awful every day.